


Without regard to

by Kurxo



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Soundwave waits for Shockwave to slip up but ends up slipping harder, Tags Subject to Change, one-sided hate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2020-10-13 18:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20586995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurxo/pseuds/Kurxo
Summary: Central Intelligence Officer Shockwave and Main Communications Officer Soundwave have always been at odd ends with each other since the dawn of war.Both well-versed in their disciplines, they are tasked with an assignment that relies on their teamwork, and more importantly, their ability to save face.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a simple one-shot Fake Dating WaveWave. But, I disappoint none other than myself.  
Let's both have fun figuring out where this plot goes.

The upper reaches of Kaon were caked in thick smog. An opaque, veiny-arrangement that crawled around the sharp edges of catered skyscrapers in similar fashion to inner-complex circuitry. The beautiful, industrial architectures long ruined by the throes of battle. Broken iron beams poked through the dark gray clouds, having the air swirl loosely around them in organic patterns. 

Soundwave often found himself staring down into the depths of saturated metal filings, wondering if there's ever to be a day that the smog will soon lift. A day that the iron-bar skeletons of abandoned skyscrapers will lay bare to the bright star that colors Cybertron’s surface. Kaon was once beautiful. Maybe not that of the shimmering beauty of Crystal City or the pristine lakes of the Pious Pools, but it was beautiful in its own right. 

“Anything new?” Megatron called out towards the distracted lieutenant. His focus kept to the datapads scattered across his desk as he plainly jokes.

“Negative: it is the same.”

“That’ll change one day,” he tossed out empty words,” for now, we need to prioritize.”

Soundwave recognized the cue and pulled himself from his spot by the tall windows. He moved closed, yet at a fair distance, giving his commander the thin veil of privacy by keeping his optics off his reports. As if he wasn’t going to have to sort through them later for archival purposes.

Megatron shifted through many thin-glass datapads in search for a specific report. Soundwave reached a servo to assist, but quickly withdrawn it when he noticed this impulsive behavior. It was a common for Megatron to become so engrossed in his research that he often makes a mess of his organization. Precious time wasted organizing everything back into a clean stack.

“After that last battle, I’ve been thinking about our arsenal,” Megatron began as he pulled out the correct temporary datapad. “What were the losses again?” he asked with exasperation. 

“Aerial forces: 29% loss. Ground forces: 47% loss. Defense systems: 32% damage. System barriers: 11% damage,” Soundwave listed off statistics like a teleprompter.

“Sounds like the numbers went up since the initial report.”

“Assets have been recalculated after the final report was sent in,” Soundwave informed.

There was a thick pause between them. Soundwave anticipated an order or a request in terms of financial management or resource allocation. All possibilities that he readied himself to execute at a moment's notice. 

“I’ve decided to take the opportunity for negotiations with Crystal City,” Megatron laid one of the many datapads out towards Soundwave.

“Query: Crystal City is a neutral faction?” he asked with doubt that this would a favorable negotiation. He took the contract off the side of the table, stowing it under his arm to continue this conversation.

Megatron folded his arms over his chest,” yes, for now. I have no intention of swaying them to our side nor the other.”

A tilt of Soundwave’s helm as he awaited the rest of the explanation, unsure as to what the warlord had in mind. There was a curious air to his explanations, as if he was building up to something unsavory. 

“I have plans of sending a couple of our own for a small visit. Dai Atlus has reached out to us for special negotiations that could procure us important assets. I have no expectation that he’ll sway sides, but this should be enough to expand our forces where need be.”

“And the necessary materials?”

“From them as well.”

A short, understanding nod as Soundwave found the directive. “Affirmative. I will begin preparations immediately.”

“-However, there is one more thing,” Megatron verbally stopped him.

“... Yes?” 

“My servos are tied here for the meantime. I’m leaving directive up to much more capable servos.”

Soundwave raised an optic-brow, unsure what that meant. Megatron specified.

“I’m allowing Shockwave to lead negotiations in my stead.”

There was an obvious jerk in Soundwave’s throat. A sudden stop in his chassis in quiet disagreement. The other noticed his physical disinclination. 

“He is well-versed in the field. That’s also his home-city, he has an advantage in their culture and politics better than anyone else in the upper command.” 

“Suggestion: You don’t need to humble yourself.”

“That is not all, Soundwave,” Megatron’s tone lowered, a cautious wavelength as if he were carefully measuring the other’s patience.

News couldn’t get worse than this, so he listened, hoping that it would be in favor to him. 

“As formalities go, I need him matched with a partner. Someone to stay with him at all times so he doesn’t get any ideas.”

Straight to denial. Soundwave played into ignorance, ignoring the shift of energy in the room. He continued with his first suggestion. 

“Starscream: would be a capable fit. His scientist background grants him special liberties and respec-”

“No, Soundwave,” Megaton interrupted him,” we’ve decided that the better match would be _you_.”

Soundwave felt his plating go cold.

* * *

In the lower echelons of the brooding tower held Shockwave’s laboratory. A small private space away from the noise of turbines and machinery churning within the factories. An even more pleasant place to station himself far from upper command, keeping them arm’s length from him in tangible distance, save for the ever-intrusive comm link.

After recent excursions, his lab has been chocked full of discarded plating and armor, some leftover extremities, and all the likes. Presents from war that no longer served its intended purpose. All of it piling up in the corner, ready for any project. 

Filing through all the bulky metal and fried circuitry, Shockwave could only move so fast with his one servo. Damus had long left to run drills with the other Phase Sixers, leaving Shockwave without assistance for the meantime. It left him to deal with idle work until the other could return in the morning.

Out of the corner of his optic, a dainty pair of hands grabbed the edge of a piece of sheet metal, pulling it aside before reaching in and grabbing more. A repeated gesture until it created a crater in the pile.

“You look like you needed the help,” a smirking voice cooed.

Shockwave looked up, optic half dimmed in minor annoyance,” what is it, Starscream.”

A little way off, the red seeker held scrap metal against his glossy-yellow cockpit. His blue arms wrapped around the tidy pile with his helm peeking over the edge of it. 

“I wanted to help out. Y’know, since I hardly ever see you” he started in his usual ways.

Shockwave knew that wasn’t the case and didn’t feel like playing in his little game. “I’m always eager to have more capable servos,” he picked up a heavier, denser object, tossing it into the scrap pile in Starscream’s arms

A pitched yelp before the loud clashing and clatter of parts colliding with the floor. Starscream looked down with his face twisted in confusion, unsure what happened,” what the frag did you throw at me?!” 

“Osimum,” he replied plainly,” I’m not going to ask again.”

There was a spark of curiosity, soon diminished after the hardening of Shockwave’s tone. Starscream grumbled and kicked away the mess on the ground. There was no fun with this guy.

“Lord Megatron has sent me to inform you of upcoming plans.”

“And this couldn’t be sent through a comm, why?”

Starscream grinned once again, cheekily little thing,” I- we felt it was better if this was given face-to-face.”

“I take it is not good news.”

“No, it’s great news. For you anyways,” Starscream fell back into Shockwave’s large office chair, sliding back with a grace, servos laced neatly over his knee. “We’re having a meeting with delegates in Crystal City. Megatron deemed you the better fit to discuss bargaining some resources from them. Maybe even acquire some of their ideas?” 

The seeker tried selling this concept to Shockwave until he bit.

“And then what? You want me to lace what’s left of Crystal City with bombs and threaten them to join our Cause?” he tossed out random possibilities. Something dramatic that Starscream would like.

Although, Starscream continued to look smug, as if he was thinking too far off.

“.. Or am I, unfortunately, stuck with you when I go.”

Then he frowned, but kept his cocky attitude.

“You’d wish you were stuck with me,” he raised his wings in defense, dressing himself up in size,” instead you’re going with Soundwave.” He huffed.

“This sounds like an ill advised choice,” Shockwave disagreed with the notion.

“Not at all. He’s the best match. Think about it. You’re both so automated like those bulky computers in the command hub,” he noticed Shockwave’s latent bemusement and switched topics,” ...besides, I know you’re used to these half-baked dates with other politicians in Iacon. This would be the same.” 

“Yes, I am. However, you are ignoring the glaring issue here.”

“I’m not ignoring it. I know you two have, uh, issues,” he tagged with air quotes,” but, it’s only a short visit. You don’t even have to _do_ anything but obtain information. That’s basically painless.”

Shockwave tilted his head in such a way that suggested he was rolling his optics. “This is a foolish game for you and Megatron, isn’t it?”

“I mean, yes, but actually no,” Starscream leaned back, helm resting on the tip of his knuckle,” Megatron has only the investors in mind, but I do think the coincidence is funny.”

There was an aching temptation to throw another osmium cube into Starscream’s lap, watch as it dents up the armor he took so much pride in, but he sought refrain. The importance of bigger and better projects were on the line, a little date means nothing, even if he has to pretend with that little lap dog that bares his denta at him anytime he is nearby.

“Whatever he sees fit. Even if it’s an illogical ploy to stir trouble where it already burns,” Shockwave turned his attention away to continue fixing through the scrap for when Damus returns. 

For the price of science, was it worth this much headache?

* * *

“Lord Megatron: Request: reconsider this arrangement,” Soundwave disputed.

“I’ve never seen you so adverse about anything,” Megatron sounded halfway surprised, yet amused. Not even in the Gladiator Pits did Megatron ever see Soundwave fight through such conflict.

“He is someone not to be trusted; out of reliable optics that long.”

“I know. That’s why I trust you to keep a watch on him,” the war-tank attempted to reason with him,” do you want to leave it up to Starscream?”

Soundwave pursed his lips together under his mask. One long stare at Megatron, struggling to keep his debates to himself. He was in no position to argue against sound reasoning.

“I didn’t think so.”

He tried to cope with the concept. Maybe it wouldn’t seem so bad.

Shockwave wasn’t truly terrible, however his intentions were extremely dubious. He worried that he would take his opportunity to snuff out Soundwave to put himself in a better position to overthrow Megatron. Or worse. With him hiding down in that lab of his all day, it bothered Soundwave having him out of sight. The painful possibility of him plotting something with his experiments.

“What is our assignment, then?” Soundwave inquired.

Finally on the same page, Megatron passed over notes that he’s taken for himself. A neat scrawling across a much thicker, personal datapad. His handwriting was always much nicer than one would anticipate. The long forgotten hobby of being a poetic linguist, his penmanship showcased his honest personality. Soundwave appreciated that discrete part of him.

“After you two get there, I want you two to stay for a couple weeks. Get what you can. Make sure Shockwave stays on topic and keep our politics out of it,” Megatron informed him.

Soundwave nodded,” it would be no problem.” Aside from the obvious.

“Everything will be ready for you tomorrow before departure. You both will leave at 600 hours on the _Auxillary_.”

The war-tank stood out of his chair, approaching his lieutenant. A large, weathered servo patted his shoulder with some sort of sympathy, squeezing the softer points of his boxy blue stereo-wedge.

“Try not to let it get to you,” Megatron tried to sympathize but Soundwave only tossed a withheld glower. A sharp glare over the thickness of his visor in the resident lighting. 

“Affirmative. I won’t,” he took the gesture of camaraderie and left.

It was going to take longer than a short night’s rest to mentally prepare for this trip, but he made due with what little time he had.


	2. Chapter 2

Sunrise broke over the horizon. Fresh rays shining through the dark blue shell of the night sky with its soft pink hues. Slits of light punctured between the half-open blinds into the depths of Soundwave’s hab, illuminating his rough frame as he worked in silence. 

Long before sunrise, quiet sounds of scurrying and shuffling bothered the stillness in the upper command barracks. Soundwave forfeited rest for preparation during the night. Toiling around in his compact hab working through shelves of weaponry and essentials, searching for just enough to carry, but not too much to stow in the ship. He mostly sought mods to upgrade his person. The rest were basics such as spare energon, polish, and other necessities. 

Down on the flight deck - in the early hours of dawn - the base was hardly lively. Guards were fastened around every important corner, watching for Autobot invaders or neutrals seeking refuge from the casualty. The rest of the bay was sectioned off with a large quantum engine, clothed by a thin piece of material, obscuring it from sight. Shockwave was rumored to be building a large interstellar ship with wild ideas that Cybertron was running out of time. Something, something, he hardly understood the jargon. _As long as it kept him busy_ he’d tell himself.

Near the arc opening of the bay was a small ship. A sleek shuttle. Big enough for two larger bots and no more than that. It was one of the few ships afforded to them from the scraps of Polyhex with what little shanix they had to spare for it. Since the Decepticon army was mostly composed of flight-frames, seeking operable flight equipment was often lower priority. 

The loading dock of the ship was obstructed by two large bots: a smaller, stockier indigo one with black threads dripping down his back and a taller, carbon-black one with broad triangular wings flaring proud from the edges of his chassis’ dorsal. The two were locked in idle conversation as they loaded cases into the ship. A mixture of scraping and quiet laughter echoed throughout the bay while they stowed away precious cargo. Their spirits high; unbothered with their early schedule. 

Soundwave approached them with no intention of joining in, trying to slide by, so he can pack his luggage away in secrecy. Though no amount of casual stealth could avoid their keen audials. In broad turns, they tossed their glance over their shoulders at the sound. Noticing their superior, they promptly bowed their helms and acknowledged him.

“Commander Soundwave,” both muttered in unison. A practiced gesture that Soundwave often met with indifference.

“Damus, Black Shadow,” he nodded to both of them. 

They continued their curtesy as Soundwave approached the lip of the shuttle. He half expected them to stay bowed, half expected them to wait off to the side until he was settled. Yet, not a single pede could come in contact with the drop-floor until a clawed servo dropped in front of him, stopping him.

“Allow me,” that smooth, honey-like voice spoke. The intelligence officer attempted to dismiss him before he felt his servo relieved of his luggage. He reached out to grab his bag back, but the other already stepped inside. 

“Where do you want this?” Damus asked, voice muffled in the depths of the ship.

“I-”

“Put it near the back. Don’t mix it in with my equipment,” a flat-toned voice answered over Soundwave. 

“...” Soundwave shut his mouth.

A bitter surge corroded over his spark hearing Shockwave’s voice. Even more so, throwing his stuff around like he owns it. His lack of consideration grinded Soundwave’s gears. 

In moments, Damus excused himself from the ship. Whatever he did, at least it sounded like his items were safely put away. Not shoved under careless equipment. Back on the bay floor, both him and Black Shadow stood at attention while Shockwave walked towards the edge, giving them a final set of instructions.

“Everything is in the lab. It will be likely that my comm-link will be off due to previously stated reasons,” a sharp glare of his lense, as if he was flicking his gaze towards Soundwave,” anything else will need to be reserved for when I get back.”

Both of them nodded with a “yes sir”. There was a pause as Shockwave stared at them before returning to the ship. Whatever it was, Soundwave barely caught a glimpse of what it could have been. If he spent his whole trip analyzing every passing neuron in his complex, he’d never sleep. A shake of his helm before he boarded the ship, one final glance at the duo as well.

“Have a safe trip,” Black Shadow waved at him. The same denta-filled grin he always had. 

“If you need anything, please comm us,” Damus chimed over the kickstart of the engines. Anything else said was flushed out by the rush of turbines.

A meek wave as the door shut Soundwave in. Hydraulic seals hissing into place while the shuttle prepared itself for launch. The interior rattled with the rumble of unused drivers mere meters beneath the alloy flooring. It felt cramped. Wavelengths bounced with high frequencies at a rapid pace, barely finding enough space to extend passage. Perhaps, it was only the haul. Soundwave turned around to view the rest of the ship, only to feel a miserable crawl up his nodular chord.

The interior of the ship was truly small.

From outward appearances, the shuttle was relatively modest already, but inside was worse. Luggage compartments pulled in the walls, leaving only a narrow pathway from the ejection door to the cockpit. Even the cockpit was pitiful. Two seats sectioned together, hugging just under the half-circle command console.

Shockwave sat himself to the left. His only servo clicking various switches and buttons to stabilize appropriate hover conditions. His clunky cannon-arm resting against the corner of the seat, barrel lodged into the seam where the curve of the wall met with the floor. His frame took up much of the space on the bench, leaving this tiny space for Soundwave to squeeze into.

There was no way. It wouldn’t be possible to fit both of them in there. Even if he could, he was less than willing to be in direct contact with… that. 

Out of stubbornness, Soundwave held his servo on the back of the seat, choosing to stand instead. Busy servo paused its routine as the white antennas on Shockwave’s helm clicked backwards in annoyance.

“Sit down, I need you to cover the controls,” he ordered him.

Servo tightened on the seat, the fabric squeaking under the tension,” there is not enough space for the both of us.”

“This is as much space as I can give,” Shockwave cocked his head to the right-- not enough to face Soundwave over his shoulder,” we have 4 hour transit, please take a seat.”

A voice in his head kept telling him that’s nonsense and a weak excuse. He didn’t want to buy into the lie, but was he really going to stand back here for 4 hours on a rough trip?

With a sigh, he gripped the edge of the seat with both servos and hauled himself over. Pedes and legs first. Barely sliding under the command table, while the rest shuffled in with difficulty. An awkward crashing and scraping of elbows and shoulders before Soundwave could fully situate himself. Already having to touch him more than necessary, sitting this close was off the list. He pushed himself against the wall, locking his right arm in place. Not that it mattered. With his best efforts, his shoulder still pressed flat against Shockwave’s, leaving much to be desired for personal space. 

Soundwave tempered himself despite the gnawing urge to scream. If it were possible to feel physically suffocated, this would the textbook definition of it. Lodged -miserable- between a buzzing wall and an emotionless machine.

All the while Soundwave suffered, Shockwave seemed unbothered by this invasion of space. Far too accustomed to his monstrous Phase-Sixers cramping him in his small lab, the Communications officer was a breath of fresh air in exchange. 

He waited for the other to stop fidgeting around before opening out his servo towards him. 

“May I see the agenda,” he asked.

Soundwave vented. Why didn’t he ask before he was shoved into this corner. “Didn’t Starscream debrief you beforehand?” 

“He informed me that I would be debriefed at launch,” he pushed his servo towards him some more, urging him not to waste time. 

Bothered by this closeness, he took two digits to his wrist and pushed it aside so that he could reach into his waist compartment for the datapad given to him by Megatron. Unfortunately, it sat on his left hip (of course it would be). He pushed Shockwave again so that he could pull it out of the little holder he kept it in. 

“The coordinates are written at the bottom,” he passed it over to him,” anything else is written on that note only.”

Clicking his antennas back, a narrow optic inspected the contents of the datapad, checking for authenticity. When confirmed, Shockwave pulled it from Soundwave’s servo, accidentally brushing digits in the process. Another painful strike up his circuitry. He yanked his arm back towards himself, holding his wrist as if the other burned him. 

Shockwave elected to ignore his fanatics. 

Within minutes the ship locked on course and hovered out of the bay. The datapad was dumped back into Soundwave’s lap carelessly. There wasn’t enough leeway for Shockwave to properly extend his arm, Soundwave knew this but still took offense anyways. He felt as if everything was a joke to the other now. He grabbed the pad, inspecting it for damage before stowing it away again.

“On your side, I need you to make sure we stay on course. This ship runs much like Megatron’s main control,” he skimmed through all the functions with a vague wave, not bothering to go further into detail after that. He returned to his position by gripping the shift-lever, keeping the ships balance as it crossed the uneven terrain. “There’s probably a manual up in the ceiling board if you don’t believe me.”

* * *

The floor of Kaon left much to be desired. Slick, stainless streets ruptured with caters of bombshells at every turn. Whatever buildings were left standing were often crumpled crooked on uprooted foundation. Glass and debris spilling out of them from their upper floors. The city always lit aflame. Fires rousing from the thickets of old factories. No doubt bots inside throwing discarded materials into the bolstering furnaces to keep them alive as precious fuel dwindled en masse. 

Off some ways, the sounds of rupturing turbines screamed in the sky. Familiar tri-toned shrieks of high-class Seeker turbos. Starscream and his trine scouring the skies most likely. Autobots were rumored to be travelling on the Northern front for reconnaissance, or so Thundercracker had told Soundwave. He supposes that they’re taking initiative to scout it out. 

As oddly serene it was to gaze at the pitted landscape, it felt too comfortable. He snapped back to attention, shifting his focus over to Shockwave, having felt the other staring at him. Or, at least he thought. 

The scientist kept looking forward, his optic never leaving the windshield. Annoying.

It was easy to read expressions, to _hear_ thoughts, to guess motives. However, this was a luxury not afforded around a bot like him.

There was nothing, when usually there is everything.

Every nanosecond, every point of a wavelength, he was well immersed into the world. Their conversations, their absence responses within the safe layers of their brain modules. The squeak and squeal of each fiber in a frame. Expressions were merely blankets for untold words situated at a bot’s spark, and yet, none of that was laid bare with Shockwave. 

A bot shrouded in mystery was a vast understatement when it came to this scientist. He was definition-less to Soundwave. No words could explain _what_ he is, rather, it was easier to explain how Soundwave felt being around him: distrust, discomfort, disloyalty. Even those felt like it couldn’t accurately describe this feeling that stuck within the manifolds of his spark whenever he was close to him.

There was little way to describe what it was like to sit in absolute silence. Something that only came with the solace of a snuffed spark. He can hear his circuitry pulsing with signals, his frame breathing, but the absence of hurried thoughts left this blankness in the air. He couldn’t describe it other than feeling cold.

“What is it?” 

Soundwave shuddered his optics a few times having met Shockwave’s attention. His visor narrowed into a thin line wondering why the other was asking him questions. “Hm?” he grunted, waiting for the rest of his query.

“You were staring at me. I must have missed your question, if you asked me something,” he looked ahead again.

A sudden surge of energon warmed Soundwave’s faceplates. His plating ran hot with embarrassment. Engines threatened to run on high, but he fought the impulses in his body, not wanting Shockwave to get the wrong idea. Was he staring? No, of course not.

“I was making a comment about the war: nothing important,” he lied.

“I wasn’t aware you had opinions. I’d figured you were an automated Megatron answering machine,” Shockwave joked very plainly, though rudely. A poor approach at easing the tension.

Whatever embarrassment sat with Soundwave soon fled replacing itself with insult. He bit his glossa despite rearing all sorts of petty insults he could throw back at him. That’s what he’d want to ruin his disposition. He turned his helm the other way, returning his focus to the outer reaches of the landscape wanting to forget this.

4 hours never felt so long.

* * *

A long, quiet trek over the next few states. 

For some hours, the ship elevated to a higher altitude to avoid the long, war-made pathways down below. Other times, they sat low to the ground, avoiding the rampaging airstrikes of opposing forces from above. Soundwave tried his best not to offline during this time. The anguished cries and begs of causality scratching at the side of their vehicle. Brutal as he could be, he still felt a deep pity in his soul for those roped into a war that they never asked for. Suffering the consequences of those far above them. He understood.

The closer they were to Crystal City, the better it was. The lands were clean and bots were healthy. Tall marble-white pillars rose from onyx-black metal tiling. An array of colors paved the digital roads, creating pathways for various alt-forms while coloring the pillars with pastel reflections. Compared to the ugly, ashen cities of the warring states, Crystal City felt encased in a bubble. Perfect: utopic.

Near the entrance to the capitol building, two white-and-red medic bots flagged down the ship. They pointed down at a technicolored path arranged for them towards a large landing bay. Another pure white structure appended to a large, crystalline building. Inside there were rows of ships sitting in a near-perfect line. All of them modeled closely to _Auxillary_. A popular build, or maybe the only “efficient” build. Probably a hot term used in sale pitches toward scientists. 

After a long silent trip, Shockwave cleared this vocal systems, trying at conversation again.

“Have you been to Crystal City before?” he asked, not expecting him to answer.

A small shrug,” negative: I’ve only heard stories.”

“Have you ever wanted to go?”

“Negative: I could never afford it, even as a Senator’s assistant.”

Well, so much for that. 

Now parked in the landing bay, Shockwave went about shutting off the ship. Soundwave took this chance to finally free himself from the awful clutches of this tiny space. He planted his servo flat against the wall, trying to pry himself up from the spot. Writhing around like a worm in the ground, he fought against the restraints. 

It felt easier getting out than getting in, he thought. Until he realized that Shockwave was getting up as well, both of them more than eager to finally leave.

“No- let me,” Soundwave argued, a servo flat on Shockwave’s chassis to hold him back. Shockwave ignored his order and grabbed him by his arm, pulling his upper frame out first.

“You’re scraping my paint. Let me-” another servo grabbed his back and shoved him forward, nearly throwing him down on the floor. 

Every inch of Soundwave fought this control over him. His frame tensed, fighting against this playground treatment, but Shockwave was much stronger than him that he couldn’t fight the way his limbs ragdolled over the seat when shoved forward. “Proclamation: I can handle myself,” he protested.

“You are shoving yourself against me. Someone will get the wrong idea,” he ignored his arguments.

“Conjecture: Your ship is too small for us.”

“It is the only grounder ship we have in port,” he didn’t sound too happy about it either,” a ship made for cars, not tanks.”

“I could have stood with the cargo.”

“And risk uneven distribution? That lacks efficiency. Don’t be stubborn.”

“Everything is efficient about the shuttle except seating arrangements. I would have considered passenger safety to be paramount,” Soundwave went towards the back digging through the compartments for his luggage.

“If it were such a concern, then you’re welcome to address it in your own time,” he walked behind him. Whatever compartment he pulled open, he slammed shut to keep him from making a mess,” wait on the luggage. We have to meet with them first.”

Soundwave looked back at him with a glare before looking at the compartments again,”I was seeing where Damus put it.”

Bemusement riddled his expressionless helm. Tired already. He pointed down in the bottom right corner,” he put it away right there.”

The drop-door hissed open. Saving his companion from embarrassment, he stood in front of Soundwave as the other meticulously checked over his luggage. He kept him out of sight as he pushed forward to the hosts waiting on the floor.

The gathering party was a party of one. Another red-and-white medic bot, this time with wide, white metal plates spanning from his helm. A bright smile, and even brighter optics, beamed from the pretentious helm arrangement towards the fellow scientist. 

“Senator Shockwave, it’s good to see you again,” he greeted him, servo outstretched.

“Wing, it has been too long,” he clasped his servo firmly,” there is no need for formalities, I’ve resigned my senatorial duties.” Truly, please forget it, it’s just a painful memory anymore.

“Ah, but you’ll always be our beloved precinct senator,” this bot humored him. Naturally, Soundwave would assume he was putting on airs, but his compliments felt genuine. He supposed scientists weren’t ones to throw words around. Maybe not this one.

Soundwave followed out of the haul. Everything he pack was untouched by the uneven passage and nothing stolen. Mostly all he could ask for.

He walked up behind Shockwave, fixing himself off to the side. A little bit out of sight while the other two were locked in light-hearted conversation. No need to bring attention to himself, he wasn’t the ambassador here. 

A few more spark-less passing of words before Shockwave angled himself towards Soundwave. His servo clasped the tender points around his elbow before adjusting into a clear hold of him. As if Soundwave would dart any second.

“This is Commander Soundwave,” Shockwave gestured him forward, his grip pulling him in front in intimate presentation. It felt odd to be announced with a generous tone, but he can’t say he disliked it. Soundwave offered his servo out for the other to shake as well.

Wing gasped so sweetly. His hands folded over his chassis in admiration of seeing the other. 

“This must be your Conjunx that I have heard so much about!” Wing grabbed Soundwave’s offered servo with both of his, his optics taking in the sight of him,” he’s as lovely as Starscream said he is.”

Con- _what_

Both officers immediately looked at each other, digits out, ready to blame, but the shock came on so strong it felt like an ugly blur of confusion. 

Starscream said... _what_.


	3. Chapter 3

A thick white band glossed Soundwave’s deep-crimson visor, shielding his ocular lens from sight. His half-attention held to Wing, catching the peaks of his intonations and relaying whatever feedback during his brief laboratory tour. It felt automated, it felt routine. Soundwave fell short on his studies, unable to comprehend the jargon, that everything being said sounded like smudges in his mind.

A sort of anger spun within his cores. Frustration would be a better descriptor. Shockwave’s _conjunx_? He couldn’t even toy with the concept. It felt criminal to linger on Starscream’s childish prank, yet he couldn’t reason why the passing thought of slight intimacy with that machine pinged every passing thought. Like an intrusive virus, unsavory details invaded his coherence. Minor accounts of vulnerability and a disgusting mix of intimacy thrown together in a hot garbling mess that seeped into every crook of his processor.

Shockwave continued unbothered. His attention forward, listening closely to Wing’s generic tour as if it was his first orientation. All the while Soundwave’s optics blurred over with incriminating thoughts of how to twist those wide-span, white, glossy wings off the delicate hinges on Starscream’s dorsal. A mind too busy; leaving a body to nudge into Shockwave every few steps.

Washed white by the pale fluorescence, Shockwave flourished in familiar territory. A half-dimmed optic sliding back-and-forth on the obsidian screen, inspecting the edges of the facility like an instructor. Wing only glanced towards him, diluted yellow screens ensuring he was still paying attention before switching back to the item in his servo. A couple of times, he’d break from Shockwave to give Soundwave some acknowledgement. A clean line of straight-edged denta, —fangless, unlike the lot of them within the Decepticon states— smiling up at him. 

“Is there anything you’d like to know, Commander? Afterall, I’m sure this is your first time here. Unless Senator Shockwave has brought you here before?”

An innocent question innocently burning his armor plating off in a heated mix of embarrassment and insult through volatile implications. 

Curling the small points of his digits within his servo, they grinded against the flat steel of his palm while he collected himself. _This was a mission. Reputation is paramount._ He muttered to himself in mantra.

“...” Soundwave looked around the room for anything to talk about, but he immediately realized that they are far within the depths of the building. It all looked the same. Plain white walls with windows centered in the middle looking out into a tangled network of hallways that lead to similar plain white-wall rooms. It would be wrong to say this was another lab as it was absent of lab equipment, yet it was barren of any furniture to indicate it being anything else.

He continued to glance around the room until that ugly, deep-violet form obscured the purity of the pale room. Optics hopelessly following up that harshly-edged shape, he met that still, ever-watching optic. The burnt-orange coils inside turning and adjusting like a camera lens, taking in the sight of Soundwave, waiting expectantly for him to say something. A silent urging in his body language imploring Soundwave to speak up.

Narrowly avoiding any embarrassment, Soundwave gritted his denta under his mask. A soft jut of the metal obscuring his mouth while he made faces underneath. His thoughts spinning and searching for a clever answer in spite of his mental absence. 

“Shockwave: has brought me here before. I’m reminding myself of the place,” his vocals strained, suffocating him. He bit his pride, but it’s convenience was undeniable. Anymore complex, ancient terminology thrown his way on top of Shockwave’s annoying stare might initiate a total shutdown.

The youthful one stared at both of them for a minute, having a passing thought, before another TV-ready smile curled on his face. “Great! I won’t waste anymore time then. I’m sure you are tired from your trip, so I’ll go ahead and show you to your room.”

The air eased between the two officers. 

Mentions of the trip allowed the fatigue to seep in. Shockwave appeared eager to finally rest. Though, the feeling wasn’t mutual.

That rigid blue stereo frame appeared to have slacken only for a moment before its shoulders angled up with frustrated tension. Servos clenched in the all-too-familiar fist as Soundwave’s thoughts betrayed him with miserable thoughts of this arrangement. 

A singular _room_ meaning a shared space between the two of them. The double-edged sword of responsibility as he knows that being away from Shockwave will only incur restless nights by induced paranoia, but a living space with him will bring the same thing only a different flavor! The tiresome thought of lost rest bothered Soundwave. At least it couldn’t get worse than that.

* * *

The room in question was on the far side of this expansive establishment. The walk there is only a leisurely stroll, though for these worn and weary bots it felt like a trudge across the depths of Pious Pools. There was no other sweeter sight than the door of their room with their belongings tucked away inside.

“As far as the agenda goes, I will comm you the information once I talk to Dai Atlas. He is flying in from a tour tonight, so I’ll be sure to send it before tomorrow morning,” Wing informed the both of them as he passed a single datapad towards Shockwave. It was thin with cyan accent lights lining the gold trim. Hairline cracks and dull scratches detailed the bottom edges of the pad signifying its age. The communications officer was unable to linger on the sight before Shockwave tucked it away in his subspace in a suspicious hurry.

“Thank you. I- we will see you tomorrow, then. If we do meet again,” he extended his curtesy as Wing returned the gesture.

“I have no doubt in my mind that we will. Ah- “ he peaked around Shockwave towards Soundwave, who was fixed behind him, looking at nothing in particular,” goodbye to you too. Please take it easy.”

It took a few moments before Soundwave noticed the other calling to him, but by the time he could reply the other was already making his way out of sight. 

Finally, he could drop the act and return to his normal attention. It was tiring to play conjunx. It was tiring to pretend he tolerated Shockwave at all. Nevermind that mess, he turned into the room after Shockwave only to stop dead in his tracks.

At this point the shock had lost it’s punch, but the hot, boiling anger he felt inside never ceases to eat at him. 

There was only _one_ berth.

The grief came in small tides. He should have known. He did know. Perhaps a small part of him wanted to forget that he suspected it would be this way. 

The room itself was compact, yet practical. It was large enough for the two of them to fit inside comfortably, even with their items snug against the walls. Unfortunately, it was the same glaring white as the rest of the buildings were, but the adornments and furniture were a deep crimson along with some dark gray accents to help fill the visual space. 

However, the more pressing issue, sat in the middle of the room. A recharge slab large enough for two bots. A recharge machine sat on either side with the cords neatly rolled up aloft the carry hook. It was out of the question to try to sneak off and sleep on the floor. It would only make him look a fool in front of Shockwave. Reputability aside, he would be squeezed into the berth legs and crammed into the luggage. 

The intelligence officer didn’t seem all too pleased with the revelation either. He was reluctant to approach the bed by instead slipping around the corner to inspect his items. Without a word, and his back facing out towards the room, he busied himself cataloging all of his stuff while reading something off his comm screen. Soundwave watched him work steadily through the first two bags before he kicked himself for staring again. Bad habits never die. 

It would have been wise to check over his own luggage, but Soundwave couldn’t be bothered to pull himself through the motions. The berth was still empty, so he took it has an opportunity to lay down. Maybe if he slipped into recharge first, he wouldn’t have to live through the experience of the other sleeping next to him.

The more he sat on the thought, the more exaggerated the situation became. Before he threw himself in another mental disarray, he grabbed the cord and jammed it right into his neck plating, letting the prongs sink into his notochord. The machine hummed to life fast and clean with electricity already pouring into his complex. Soundwave stumbled in his spot, not expecting such a rush of energy to overcome him. One of these machines equated to the power of at least 20 of these in Kaon, and even then, it would probably process faster. 

Fresh, pure energy satisfied the length of his circuitry, lulling him into recharge. In confusing motions, he found himself sinking into the alloy before he offlined the second his helm touched the plating.

* * *

“Soundwave…. over.”

A harsh grip and push on his plating.

“You’re… -vy. Move it.”

Another hard push. Sharp metal slid between the slim gap of his plating, scraping the delicate wiring underneath. Soundwave slapped a heavy servo over his side, only hurting himself more as he wedged the piercing servo deeper into the wiring. “Hh--!” he huffed out in pain.

“I know that you’re awake. Don’t be stubborn,” that cold voice jeered him, not moving his claws from Soundwave’s side. 

Soundwave grabbed his wrist and threw his servo way, his frame shuffling to the side in a sleepy daze. He was yet made aware of his surroundings, so he was fairly compliant to the other’s request.

Optics dimmed to a low light again as he tried to slip back into his stupo. But, nothing was ever that easy, now was it. 

The creak of the berth and the sighs of plating relaxing against the soft alloy. The smooth shuffling of the other settling into the place next to him. All of these things were brought to his immediate attention, pulling him out of his daze. 

The balance of the berth tilted towards Shockwave, shifting at the weight of his cannon arm resting on the edge of it. Now that the other has settled, the quiet ambience of the room returned. Quiet as it now was, the previous white noise was replaced with the quiet whirring of his circuitry and the static of his empty thoughts. That same, confounded static that Soundwave hated to hear. He had grown comfortable with the passing of another’s thoughts. He had learned to tune them out. However, the anomaly of Shockwave’s censored processors was jarring to the other as he couldn’t stand the loss of control. Neither the ambiguity of the other. 

In a moment like this, it didn’t matter, the other would have offlined by now and his thoughts would be empty either way, but that impenetrable static continued to roar against Soundwave’s audials like the sea. Higher and lower, the wavelengths bounced against the shape of his audial with each changing process of the other’s mind.

The awful static stilled into pindrop silence.

A switch flicked in his occipital modules when the attention to the sounds went into the attention on his frame. A cold servo clasped over his own, thumb digit sliding against his palm as it locked him down into place. Panicked, his body stiffened to register this response before he tried to pry his arm away from the unwanted touch.

“You’re clawing the berth,” a low voice spoke above the irritable screeching that was Soundwave’s digits millimeters deep into the metal. 

“Let go of me,” he fought, his anxiety growing as the other refused to release him.

The grip softened, but he kept the other complacent. 

“Nightmares about being away from home?” another joke of bad taste. Soundwave scoffed in response. 

“Negative: I don’t need to explain myself.”

And most certainly Shockwave didn’t want an explanation either. He took his servo away and let the other escape into himself. 

“Now that I have your attention, we need to wake up early and plan ahead,” Shockwave continued to talk, ignoring the other’s fussing.

“This couldn’t have waited until morning?” Soundwave replied, appalled that the other trapped him in to tell him something unimportant as that.

“You ignored me and went to berth before I was able to tell you,” he laid his helm back now that he finally said what he had to say,” I’ve set an alarm for both of us.”

“Affirmative,” Soundwave complied with that much before he pulled his servo to rest against his soft ventral metal, keeping it safe from the nuisance next to him. “Query: anything else?” 

“No. Goodnight, Soundwave,” the other gave one last look at his berth partner before he dimmed his optic. A final breath of his plating eased out as his processors slowed down into recharge. 

Was that it?

Surely not.

Wait, why does he care?

A heat rushed over Soundwave’s helm and throat cords. What emotion could this be now? He doesn’t even know nor does he want to know. He’ll blame it on being woken up, stabbed with claws, and annoyed with agenda in the middle of the night. He was tired and was more than willing to push off this awkward churning in his circuitry as nothing more than piled on happenings. 

He grabbed his servo with his other and rested it over his midsection, fidgeting back into his comfortable position to attempt a second chance at rest.

“...”

“Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time, no see. Life's a fuck. I hope this chapter makes up for the lack of update.


	4. Chapter 4

An unpleasant night rolled over into a somewhat pleasant morning.

Soundwave sat at the edge of the shared berth, his helm heavy with drowsiness. His rest was peaceful, but too at peace that his overbearing thoughts took over and kicked him awake. At least the roaring electrostatic silence of Shockwave dulled as Soundwave habituated to his presence and refused to let it bother him anymore. For now. Maybe he was more bothered by the complete lack of movement Shockwave did in his sleep. His frame laid still as a dead mech on a cold slab. His physical presence was so close, yet so distant that it felt like no one was there at all. 

The only reason he was awake now was due the embarrassing collision he had with the other. He had turned on his side and slapped a servo flat against Shockwave’s chest plates. Digits splayed over the glass, tracing into the divets of the plating decoration. The other had shifted in his sleep which alerted Soundwave of this new, living presence next to him, forcing him to wake up so abruptly that he nearly threw himself off of the bed.

So here he is, holding his spinning helm while his frame overheats from embarrassment. 

The sun snuck over the edge of the horizon. Soft pink tinted the several tall window panes of all the offices within the district. A gentle streak of it slipped in through the thin crack of their curtains, laying over Shockwave’s helm highlighting the edges of that purple hexagon and illuminating that inky black screen currently devoid of his ever-watching optic. Despite Soundwave’s disturbance, he continued to lay asleep. Perhaps the commute was more taxing for him than he had let on.

For a while he continued to sit there, waiting for the other to wake up so they could discuss their planned meeting. Though, the more he sat in the stillness the more he became aware of the noises around him.

Soft sighs of morning voices proliferated the room. Sleepy engineers, floor workers, politicians mumbling to each other all over the building, and the fading of engines as alt-modes drove by down below. Having been worn by the high-pitched whistles of Seeker fire and the clattering of metal as buildings tumbled into ash, Soundwave had long forgotten the tranquility of being among, well, the _living_. 

Amidst the chattering, a deep rumble groaned below. Half-steps off beat of the natural vocal wavelengths, it clanged and boomed somewhere far beneath the surface. Soundwave had ignored it at first, assuming it was a stray engine that belonged to the building. The longer he listened, the more the rumbling became so intrusive and loud. As if it wasn’t distracting enough, the shriek of Cybertronians joined in its awful chorus, startling Soundwave awake.

He was already out of the door, looking either way for the direction it came from before he came to his senses and realized he has no idea what he’s doing. Halfway down the hall, he stood there dumbfounded by his curious instincts that he could only look out those wide-pane windows again and curse himself. 

“Lovely morning, isn’t it?” a voice hummed behind him.

“?!”

Soundwave met glances with another bot of similar size. Its frame is absent of the ubiquitous red-and-white scheme that all the other researchers had. His mouth was concealed behind a beige battle mask and his optics were red like a Decepticon. HIs most distinguishing features were probably the single-prong emblem that substituted as his chevron and the Decepticon-esque purple coloring over his chassis. 

“...Yes, it is,” he replied painly.

“New around here?” he chuckled,” I can always tell a new scientist by how tired you look from the early commute.” He moved closer to Soundwave, certainly not shy about personal space. His servo slipped over Soundwave’s back as he urged him along his path.

“Incorrect: I’m visiting,” Soundwave hurried to inform him before he got dragged away to Primus knows where in this confusing building.

“Visiting? Oh-” the bot glanced down at Soundwave’s chest, noticing the freshly painted symbol crudely etched over the reminisce of a red, boxy one. “My bad. Judging by your frame alone, you looked like one of the interns. Let me guess… Communications?”

“Affirmative.”

“For someone in tech, they certainly aren’t paying you enough to replace that faulty voice box of yours,” he tagged light-heartedly. “I’m Mesothulas,” he held out a courteous servo towards him.

“Soundwave,” he shook with him, ignoring his comments.

The other kept walking anyways refusing to release the other from his full attention. “So, what brings a Decepticon to Crystal City? Though you mechs were too busy flattening Iacon into the ground.” _Generally being brutes, so I’ve heard._ Mesothulas’ mind continued. 

“Purpose: sight-seeing.”

“Sight-seeing? Hm, well, yeah I suppose there aren’t many ‘sights’ anymore after all the catastrophe,” he shrugged like it can’t be helped,” I’m not really sure what all I can show you. We have rules here y’know, but I can show you some of the antiquated stuff left from my teacher and from his teacher as well.”

Mesothulas stood there rubbing the edge of his jaw in thought. Soundwave meanwhile stopped little ways behind him, checking his comm for any messages. The small notification icon flashed with a “9+” from who he can already presume was Starscream antagonizing him, or already getting fed up being alone with Megatron. Who knows.

HIs servo hovered over the icon to check, but was interrupted by Mesothulas yanking him forward again.

“Yeah, I think we’re going the right way,” the mech went ahead on their current path,” my teacher left a little while ago, you might know him, he’s pretty important now. Er- he’s always been pretty important, but now he’s in the upper ranks of the Decepticons. Isn’t that pretty neat?” the other kept speaking as if Soundwave could leave and he would still keep going. “I miss him sometimes. Without him around, I lost a fair amount of inspiration for many of my projects. But, that’s fine. I didn’t expect him to stay around forever. Certainly not with the current state of Crystal City.”

Primus, of all mechs. The more words that piled on, the more this radio bot started to miss Wings’ harmless little chirps. 

Soundwave tried his best to match description to high-rank Decepticons. Since scientists were condemned under Functionalism, most of them flooded their ranks in such a short time that Soundwave was unable to pinpoint exactly who it could have been. 

“Query: Was your teacher Flatline?” he asked.

“Flatline! Hah, never. He gives me the creeps!” he shivered exaggeratedly before mellowing into a chuckle,” that’s disappointing to hear. I always figured he’d follow Pharma and Ratchet to the Autobots.”

“Then, I’m not sure who you’re talking about.”

“Of course you do!” he slapped his arm as if Soundwave was the one pulling his leg,” quit teasing, it’s Shockwave. I heard that he’s nothing but famous over there in those rebel states along with that screeching Seeker. Guess politics didn’t work out for that one.” He muttered that last part like anyone was listening. 

Right, yeah, of course. To no one’s surprise. Soundwave cycled his vents. 

“Right. How could I forget?” he played along,” clarification: his works are displayed?”

“I think it’s more correct to say that _Jhiaxus’_ works are displayed. Shockwave continued them and then some, but yes. All the same they are displayed in our honorary hall. A few months ago, I had to take down some of them and stow them back into his lab since the war drew closer to Crystal City. You know all the important ones. Only the plaques and replicas are displayed up front now.”

“It would be nice to see his works. He doesn’t flaunt his projects as much as he did here. I assume.”

“Is that right?” Mesotulas’ optics widened,”sounds so unlike him. Maybe you guys are really working him to the wires.” He waved his servo and started walking towards an elevator.

Once both were inside, the scientist punched in some code before he looked back at Soundwave. 

“Some of his work might go over your head. It certainly did mine when I first looked at it, but if you have any questions, you’re welcome to ask me.”

“I will keep that in mind. Thank you,” he nodded towards him. He was getting tired hearing about Shockwave this and Shockwave that. Just his luck to find his adoring student before anyone else. Soundwave looked for ways to turn the conversation so he could be spared of it all. 

“Query: what do you do here?”

* * *

One exhausting conversation later, the two mechs stood in front of a modest lab door. It wasn’t plated in any gold nor was it adorned in decorative lights. One could walk too fast and miss it if they weren’t looking for it. The only obvious difference was a gold-plated plaque that sat to the right of the door reading:

**Senator Shockwave of Crystal City  
Founder of Jhiaxan Academy of Technology  
Lead Researcher of Jenova**

With Shockwave no longer here, it could have been read with mourning. Had it been the only plaque here, it certainly would have been. Though the rest of the labs within the corridors all had special titles next to the door frames denoting all the spectacular achievements of the intellectuals here. 

“You know, I was supposed to work on Jenova as well,” he broke the silence,” though the advisory committee never allowed me to work on it since Shockwave left.”

“They should have because I gave you full permission to.”

Mesothulas’ servo stopped just before the keypad, his attention drawn up at the stoic figure before him that’s now blocking the doorway. Soundwave’s chassis tightened, but the tension didn’t last as Mesothulas grabbed onto him in surprise.

“Good morning, Mesothulas.”

“Shockwave!” The scientist scrambled off of Soundwave and went over, grabbing Shockwave’s cannon arm in unyielding excitement,” you didn’t tell me you were coming back!”

“I was given short notice,” he allowed the other to hang off him.

“I find that hard to believe. A comm message only takes about 5 clicks,” he pulled himself off and grabbed Soundwave, pulling him forward,” someone within your ranks is visiting us. So, I thought it was fitting to show him all of the doctoral work you’ve done for both the Academy and here at the research labs. I don’t know if you’ve met him yet. He doesn’t seem that high in command.”

Had Shockwave still have possession of his frontal cortex anymore, he would have laughed. The tremble in his shoulders signified that of which made Soundwave’s faceplates warm under his mask.

“He doesn’t look like a lot, but he’s Megatron’s third-in-command. More importantly, he’s my conjunx.”

Mesothulas gasped,” your conjunx?! You’re lying.” _There is no way anyone would ever want to marry you again. _ He turned towards the communications officer again,” why didn’t you tell me in the first place, you sly mech? Oh wait, let me guess, you wanted to gush over your conjunx in secret. I get that.”

Soundwave was slowly growing intolerant for Shockwave’s laconic way of joking. Was it even a joke anymore or was he actually saving his reputation?

“He-” Soundwave looked at his “lover” then back at the youthful mech,” I didn’t want any special treatment because of my association with him.”

“Eh? Eh, fair enough. I wouldn’t be able to help myself, after all, he took such care of me. I would be remiss not to return the favor to his beloved,” he shrugged helplessly again. “Well, since you’re here, I don’t really need to detail anything in for him. Will I be seeing you around?”

“I have a meeting with Dai Atlus tonight. We can schedule something if I have time,” Shockwave presented this tentative invite.

“Sounds good.”

* * *

Blue metal pressed flush against the wall avoiding his counterpart in this crowded room. Soundwave tucked his calf against some scrap on the floor while he half-sat on the table behind him. His best efforts in putting himself far enough to be in Shockwave’s complete field of vision. Now no longer in the presence of listening audials, the communications officer narrowed his visor in a thin line towards Shockwave.

“How did you get here so fast? Were you awake that whole time?”

Shockwave’s singular optic locked onto Soundwave’s face, focusing in on him. “I should be the one asking the questions. I told you we were going to discuss the meeting this morning and you were gone with your comm line off.”

“Negative: the only messages I had were from Starscream. You didn’t send anything.”

“I didn’t send anything because nothing went through. Your line is down.”

There was no way that his line would be down already. He was ready to dispute by showing him his comm before he realized a hole in his argument.

“Objection: if you were looking for me, then why were you in your lab?”

“Because, I had a feeling you would end up here.”

Touche. 

“There was no guarantee that I would end up here. Consider: what if I didn’t show up here?”

“It doesn’t matter. You are here right now. Any other possibility is irrelevant.”

Curse this logical mind. Any manipulative tricks Soundwave learned from Starscream were useless against Shockwave. He shifted around on the table, carefully planting his other pede onto the ground without crushing anything under it. 

“Fine. You have me here now. Suggestion: we converse about the meeting. Declaration: I am still unsure what you are planning to negotiate.”

Shockwave pushed himself closer, his knee sliding near the edge of Soundwave’s inner thigh. Mesothulas didn’t do a very good job of leaving space in the room. 

“First, check your comm link,” he insisted.

Soundwave was reluctant to comply, but he was suspicious on how persistent the other was being. He turned away and checked his comm-link. The same “+9” notification sat over the message icon. When he clicked over it, the screen filled with messages from Starscream… 2 days ago. Suspecting the poor signal in the area, he tapped the ‘refresh’ icon to see if anything else would load. The screen delayed itself before only showing the same old, unread messages.

Unsure what to think, Soundwave looked up at the mech before him, finding the words to rightfully accuse him. Instead, he grabbed Shockwave’s wrist, pulling up his comm-link himself.

Obviously the other didn’t appreciate this and started to pull away. “I gave you the decency of your privacy.”

“Conjecture: I have no reason to believe you are telling the truth right now.”

“I have no reason that you are either,” Shockwave anchored his arm towards himself, but that didn’t stop Soundwave from shakingly navigating to Sixshot’s name in the “recent contacts” list and call it.

The profile image of Sixshot enlarged over the holoscreen with three bars flashing outwards. It ran the dial tone for about 5 clicks before the screen errored out with a large “x” over his profile image and closing it out of itself. Soundwave refused to believe that this was the case so he fought harder against Shockwave and dialed Overlord only to receive the same result.

Sick of being pulled on like a puppet, Shockwave gave one final yank and tore himself free from the other’s clingy servos. He couldn’t rub his aching joints, so it was all he could do to flex his servo a few times. 

“Are you satisfied with your results now?” Shockwave spat venom at him. Shaking the screen off, he did his best not to stare down at the other with malice,” did you hear an EMP go off last night?”

“Negative: if one did, we would accumulate widespread system failure.”

“Did you hear anything at all?”

Soundwave reopened his comm-link, this time dialing in codes to see if he can get any line to go through. Even the encrypted line he saved purely for Megatron. Every single one error’d out or simply went dead to static. He thought to himself, trying to remember anything relevant in the last few hours. A EMP would cause his screen to be lodged full of system errors and bring on sluggish processors. Other than, well, the small fuss they had, he couldn’t remember-

“Observation: there was something.”

Disconnecting his screen, he found the other to be rummaging through his lab. Filing down towards the edges of the room, boxes were being pushed and shoved out of the way, by proxy also shoving Soundwave closer to the middle in the middle of it all. 

“It was-” Soundwave held himself from answering until the other finished.

In the clearing, small red dots sat within the corners, hidden from sight. Shockwave lifted his helm and signaled Soundwave. Two digits tapped against his off-white antennae, notifying the other that they are being listened to.

Soundwave followed his gestures and met him halfway. Stepping through his things, he grabbed Shockwave by the servo, yanking him out of the rubble and seamlessly out of the room. His partner’s digits slid between his, leaving a gap wide enough for him to trace his over his palm.

It wasn’t ideal to communicate this way. It left a wide margin of error, but Soundwave couldn’t risk cameras capturing any written correspondence either. 

_Basement level. Loud boom and shrieking._

_Charge bomb?_

_No. Sounded industrial. Engine-like._

Shockwave noted this. Scanning their area, he was in desperate search for a dead zone. Up on the upper floors, there was no guarantee for any space rooms that weren’t bugged. The end of the hallway stationed a communal balcony. The intelligence officer hurried to it, pushing Soundwave outside, so he could check behind him before locking the doors.

The blue mech stumbled onto the platform with uneven pedes after Shockwave’s not-so-gentle push. He caught himself against the bannister and used it to balance his weight. The other mech passed one more watchful look through the door before turning around to meet the other again. One mouthless bot and a battle-masked bot, he doubted that the cameras could pick up their conversation. It felt safe, even if it was only for the moment.

“Was Mesothulas the only person you talked to this morning?”

“Affirmative.”

“You didn’t see Wing at all?”

“Negative.”

Both of them stared at each other, lost for any sort of conclusion. Soundwave found himself picking at his comm screen again, concealing his arm between him and Shockwave, using the other as cover. He clicked at the “refresh” button over and over only to see the same error, confirming his worser fear that his comm-link was truly off.

“Query: what now?” Soundwave looked up at his taller counterpart, feeling exceptionally vulnerable in these circumstances; far from home in extra unfamiliar territory. Unknowingly, he found himself shifting closer to Shockwave to seek comfort in the only familiar thing he knew around here.

“Perhaps Crystal City does have a bias after all,” Shockwave responded by angling his helm more to keep optic contact with the other.

“We are here until we get our resources. Additionally: I am unsure if we are the only ones who are shut-down.”

As much as he didn’t want to believe it, Soundwave didn’t want to consider that they are being singled out. They are a 6-hour Seeker commute from their headquarters, not including any run-ins along the way. 

Now given a proper opportunity to rerun the events, the communications officer attempted to look for patterns. It felt convenient. It certainly didn’t help Shockwave’s lack of concern, but Soundwave has to consider that he didn’t have the ability to be concerned. A nagging voice in his brain begged to accuse him. Turning around all on itself and yelling that it’s all fake. It was all too easy. He should have expected this from him.

But... he didn’t have any proof. 

“Suggestion: Let’s not waste time.”


End file.
